


Make Good Your Escape

by fl_air



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-05 23:27:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14629260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fl_air/pseuds/fl_air
Summary: Baekhyun needs to wind down after a CBX schedule. Being Minseok and Jongdae's puppy helps with that.





	Make Good Your Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Contains: puppy play, private humiliation, incredibly non-specific sex, Baekhyun as a somewhat-oblivious narrator
> 
> (I fear I’ve exposed myself as much as Baekhyun has. I wrote this during Eurovision? I know, that’s no excuse. This has a target audience of one and it’s me.)

Baekhyun can’t help himself. He feels extra fidgety, extra anxious. He checks his phone. Checks it twice. Refreshes it again and again just to keep his hands occupied, not even acknowledging the missed messages. Frustrated, he puts it in his pocket. He rummages through his bag and pulls out a black ribbon choker, and plays with its frayed edges. Just holding it isn’t enough though. He loops it around his wrist, covers it with his sleeves.

He stands up. There’s nothing in this hotel room but a bed and his phone and his travel bag, and he’s way too wired to sleep. He cracks open the door to the living space. Minseok’s somehow found the focus and energy to go to the gym, but he last left Jongdae dozing on the couch, and Baekhyun knows he’ll feel better once he’s near him. The room is already perfectly neat, but Baekhyun wanders his fingers over nearly everything in it anyway, grounding himself in the smoothness of the kitchen tiles, the sturdiness of the blinds covering the windows, the springiness of the couch cushions. He sneaks a look at Jongdae and decides not to disturb him, their maknae has been exhausted recently and Baekhyun doesn’t want to risk Minseok’s wrath by waking him.

Instead, he fetches himself a bottle of water and settles down on the carpet. He drinks, slow sips to calm his nerves, but mostly he plays with the bottle, flipping it over and over.

The door opens and Baekhyun jerks his head up, but it’s only Minseok saying goodbye to their manager and reaffirming that he knows when they’re heading to the airport. Jongdae sits up for long enough to make sure that’s there no immediate demands on his time, and then thuds back down, closing his eyes again.

“I’m going to shower,” Minseok says. “Don’t worry, hyung will let you know when we need to get ready to leave.”

Baekhyun briefly considers following Minseok, but since he had found a small measure of comfort in the rhythmic throwing and catching game, he stays still, keeps playing, keeps watch over Jongdae.

Minutes pass.

“I can feel you staring at me,” Jongdae says, without moving.

“No you can’t,” Baekhyun says, and looks away just in case.

“Come here, Baekhyunnie,” Jongdae says, and drags himself up and over so he’s properly seated. “You seem on edge.”

Baekhyun shrugs. “I can’t shake it.”

“Come here,” Jongdae says again, sterner, and he refuses to say anything else until Baekhyun crawls over to kneel in the gap between his legs. “That’s better.” He strokes Baekhyun’s hair, down his neck, squeezes gently at his shoulder. “Is this better?”

“Yes,” Baekhyun says, and he shifts his weight so he can rest more comfortably. “If we can, I need to get out of my head for a bit. I’d like you to… pet me,” and he must look pathetic because normally Jongdae doesn’t let him get away with anything less than explicit honestly. It’s not as if they haven’t done this before. It’s not as if they’ve ever taken anything but good care of him. He rolls up his sleeves.

Jongdae yells out only two words “Hyung? Baekhyunnie?” to Minseok, but Minseok will understand, because he always understands Jongdae. Jongdae’s giving Minseok a chance to react to the situation in private too, to decide whether Baekhyun’s request is granted or denied, whether it’s feasible or whether it’s something else to be relegated to the ‘later’ of their lives.

The two of them exist on pause for a moment, suspended in time. Baekhyun’s Schrödinger’s dog. Jongdae keeps his eyes and his hand on Baekhyun, both heavy, both enough to center him as he waits for Minseok’s decision.

Minseok answers by securing the door so it can’t be opened from the outside.

Inside, Baekhyun feels unlocked. 

Jongdae hauls them both to their feet and helps Baekhyun undress, pulls his hoodie and his T-shirt over his head. “Whatever else you want to take off is your decision.”

Baekhyun thinks about it, considers how what he’s itching for doesn’t always end up as being sexual, but how he likes the vulnerability, the exposure. He undresses himself until he’s completely naked, and Jongdae nods, pleased. Standing in front of Jongdae just doesn’t feel right any longer, so Baekhyun sinks to his knees. Jongdae crouches down and very deliberately unclasps the choker from around Baekhyun’s wrist and fixes it around his neck, running two fingers under the fabric to make sure Baekhyun can breathe.

Minseok steps back into the bathroom for a second and comes out with towels, which he lays on the floor and encourages Baekhyun to crawl onto, “We know you sometimes can’t help making a mess.” He throws a pair of socks at Jongdae, who fumbles the catch and drops them. “They’re clean,” Minseok says.

Baekhyun flushes. He knows he would have eagerly worn them, even if they weren’t.

They’re Jongdae’s socks, small and tight when Jongdae slides them over his hands like a pair of elasticated mittens. Baekhyun curls them into fists.

“We’re nearly done. Our puppy just needs a bone to chew on,” Jongdae says. He takes an unused packet of chopsticks from the kitchenette and unwraps them, takes one of the wooden rods and holds it out lengthways toward Baekhyun. Baekhyun opens his mouth and lets Jongdae place it between his teeth. “That’s it. Bark for me to let me know you’re ok.”

The chopstick rolls around, and he tilts his head back to get a better grip on it, swallowing his saliva and letting out a yelp, reveling in the wave of humiliation that spreads from his throat to his cock to the soles of his bare feet.

“Definitely a puppy still,” Jongdae says.

Minseok collects a pillow and a blanket from Baekhyun’s bedroom and places them on the floor near Baekhyun. He fills a shallow bowl with cool water, and sets that down alongside them. “There,” he says, “I think he’s taken care of,” and he slides smoothly over to Jongdae and presses a kiss to his temple. 

Baekhyun sees Jongdae smile, even as he whines and steps away. “What did I do to deserve that?”

“You’ve always done something to deserve it.”

It seems to unlock them too, Baekhyun thinks. He wonders if moments like these are when he gets to see them as they are when they’re alone, or if they’re acting out a fantasy as much as he is. 

“Hey, stop thinking so hard,” Minseok says, ruffling his hair. “Go play.” He rolls Baekhyun’s water bottle across the floor, and Baekhyun follows it, struggles to nose it back to its starting point with the bone in his mouth. He chases it around, studies how it moves, how hard it is to control it with only his face. It’s fun not having to pay attention to the shape his body’s making, not having to care about his best angles when he’s naked, head down, ass up. Minseok and Jongdae are chatting in low voices, Jongdae’s deep and soothing, Minseok’s soft and sweet, neither of them speaking loud enough or enunciating clearly enough for Baekhyun to understand them, but that’s all right, he shouldn’t be understanding them anyway.

Minseok makes tea, which they rarely drink, but the intention is clear. Minseok and Jongdae sit opposite one another at the tiny table, their Japanese study books thrust aside and piled up neatly to make space for their cups. They encircle the china with their hands and enjoy the warmth, the fragrance. Their legs are entangled. They’re connected.

Baekhyun pushes himself, drops the chopstick, and leans over his bowl, laps gently at the water.

“Aw, our puppy’s joining in with us,” Jongdae says. “He’s cute.”

“He’s a good boy,” Minseok agrees, and those words awaken a Pavlovian response in Baekhyun which he can’t ever explain. He shivers all over. He’s warm. He’s safe. He’s met their expectations. He dips his face awkwardly into the water in order to hide how happy it makes him, to try to cool off so that he’ll be able to ignore his erection. It doesn’t work. It never works.

Minseok and Jongdae aren’t paying him any attention though. Jongdae’s groping at the crotch of Minseok’s sweatpants.

There’s nothing physically stopping Baekhyun from taking care of himself with his sock-gloved hands, but there is the burning memory of Jongdae’s disappointment the one time he’d tried. Baekhyun drags one of the towels laid down for him over a pillow with his teeth, flops onto his belly, and grinds against it. It’s rougher than he would prefer.

He decides to try his luck.

Panting, he crawls over to Minseok, lays his head on Minseok’s thigh, licks the back of Jongdae’s hand. They’ve never touched him when he’s like this, he doesn’t know what he would do if they did, but he likes to test their indulgence of him, likes to learn the boundaries one by one.

Jongdae bops him on the nose. “Shoo, puppy. We’re busy here.”

Baekhyun shakes his head and nuzzles his face closer to Minseok’s dick.

“Maybe we should shut him in the bedroom,” Minseok says, and deftly tips Baekhyun back to the floor.

Baekhyun whines. They’re teasing him. He hates them.

Jongdae grabs Minseok’s arms and directs him to the couch, and then, not done, Jongdae straddles Minseok, leans down to nip at his collarbone. “No need,” he says.

Baekhyun growls. He’s not allowed on the furniture.

He slinks back to his pillow, rocks against it, slowly at first, but with increased speed and desperation as Jongdae and Minseok get ever wrapped up and lost in each other. 

As a human, he rarely gets to witness them so together, but in this space, Minseok relaxes enough to let Baekhyun hear him, Jongdae unwinds enough to show his real face. The combination of acceptance and dismissal and invisibility and humiliation burns through Baekhyun. He humps against the towel, rough and raw. He whimpers through his orgasm. He’s crying, maybe. He cleans up his dick. He wipes what might be tears from his face.

Minseok scoops Jongdae up and supports him back to their bedroom. 

At even that small betrayal, Baekhyun’s eyes are watering again, for sure, but Minseok comes back straight away. He taps his thigh twice, a gesture that calls Baekhyun to follow him. Minseok leads him all the way to the bed, upon which a very drowsy Jongdae is lounging. Minseok taps twice on the mattress, and Baekhyun stops with one hand on it, uncertain if the rules have changed.

“Our Jongdae needs his rest,” Minseok explains. “You’ll keep him company while I take care of packing.” 

Baekhyun clambers up beside Jongdae, and curls up to make himself as small as possible. Jongdae shifts over and snuggles against him.

“Good boy,” Minseok says again, and removes the bindings from Baekhyun’s hands and the choker from around his neck, strokes his hair.

Baekhyun hums, still not ready to talk.

“I’ll see you soon, Baekhyun,” Jongdae says, catching and holding Baekhyun’s gaze, confirming he’s on his way back to them, that he’ll be ready to face whatever the evening brings.

Baekhyun nods. Jongdae smiles.

Finally, he falls asleep.


End file.
